


Stargazers

by pagerunner



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Perc'ahlia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8472214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagerunner/pseuds/pagerunner
Summary: The stars above may be unchanging, but the stories Vex and Percy are learning from each other about them are turning out to be intriguingly new.





	

The North Star was the North Star for both of them, but very little else was the same.

Vex had learned some of the stars’ names from her mother, but the formal, unimaginative education she received from her father had little time for such fancies as astronomy. She and Vax, as they so often did, had to make their own way. They learned enough of the night sky to navigate and orient, and in the process, they gave those markers their own idiosyncratic names. Vax kept suggesting ridiculous things just to tweak his sister’s nose. Vex secretly named a constellation after Trinket, and told no one but the bear.

She was so used to her own understanding of the sky, in fact, that when Percy idly pointed out a constellation one night, the unfamiliar reference startled her.

“We’re definitely getting on toward winter,” he said, gesturing with one long finger at the sky above their camp. They were both laying out bedrolls, preparing for a night of well-earned sleep. “The Hunter’s coming around again.”

“What?” Vex asked, peering up. He wasn’t wrong about the generalities, at least; she recognized late-season patterns in the sky, although she wasn’t about to tell Percy about Vax’s rather single-entendre labels for most of them. “Which one’s the Hunter?”

“You don’t know? I’m surprised. There—those four stars mark out his belt, and you can see the shape of the arms and legs, a little.”

“Oh.” Vex rose and walked closer, studying it. She supposed she could see that, although it took some imagination. “I used to call that the Chalice. The line for the belt was one side of the cup. Tilt your head the other way.”

“Hmm. Different constellations? I never read about that one.”

Vex’s lips twitched upward into a smile. “Trust you to have learned it all from books.”

“Where else? I studied charts, read all the myths. Or at least I thought I had."

Vex laughed softly. They were standing shoulder to shoulder now, far enough from the waning fire that the cold air made them huddle up deep within their respective coats. She sidled just a little closer. “None of this was written down. It was just…between me and my brother, is all.”

Percy, his eyebrows lifting, turned to study her. Vex chose to blame her blush on the sting of the wind, and tossed her hair, deliberately uncaring. “We were inventive,” she told him. “And it served us just fine.”

“I’m sure it did.” His tone went goading. “But you wouldn’t have heard about the Archer, then.”

“The what?”

She lifted her chin, watching Percy adjust his spectacles. A glint of pale light shone off the glass. “Look north-northeast,” he advised, “and a few degrees up from the mountains.”

Vex followed his guide. There, not so far from the vaguely bear-shaped cluster she’d picked out as a child, was a matrix of stars in no real shape that she could identify, at least at first. Percy pointed. “It’s formed around the arc and the line, just there. Tilt your head my way, you should be able to make it out.”

She did, bumping her head gently against his shoulder. “Do you see it?” he asked.

Vex, who was still picking out patterns, found herself distracted by the warmth of his voice so close to her ear. She hummed low in her throat. “Tell me more about it,” she said, prevaricating.

“Well. The constellation was named after a woman of legend, typically over-accomplished in the way these things go, admired by all who knew her. But she had no intent of settling down for any unworthy suitor. She was more interested in the hunt, and in being free from all the expectations of society.”

“I’m liking this girl already.”

“She was known for her skill in archery, and it was said she could strike any target,” Percy went on, well into a storytelling cadence now. “So she took a bet one night, perhaps a foolhardy one, because her one known weakness was the temptation of gold…”

Vex turned just far enough to eye him. Percy might have smirked, just a little, but he steadied his expression and kept on nevertheless.

“Her competitor tricked her. The bet was for the highest and furthest target, and he’d rigged the targets so that his could be seen to fall, but hers did not.”

“Did she put the next arrow through his eye?” Vex said, quirking an eyebrow. “After that, he’d deserve it.”

Percy chuckled. “No. But once she realized what he’d done, she went from feeling shamed to vowing she’d prove her superior skill to _everyone_. So she nocked another arrow and aimed it up at the sky. And while everyone watched, she shot so high she pierced one of the stars themselves, and it came plummeting back to earth as proof.”

“Good for her. Did it crush the cheating bastard? I hope it did.”

He grinned. “It might have.”

“And did she get the gold she was promised?”

“All the gold and more.”

Vex nodded in satisfaction. “I suppose naming the stars after you is a worthy enough prize. Along with proper payment, of course.”

“Indeed.” He pointed again. “See the shape of it? She’s taking aim. And where her arrow’s pointed—that’s Astira and Ocian marking out the shaft—there’s a little patch of void between the stars. It’s where the falling star used to be.” He leaned close again. “Do you see it now?”

Vex smiled softly. She could, if she tried. It was no different from the other constellations she used to invent, after all: a pattern of light, a spark, and a story, and there it was. She let her head rest against Percy’s shoulder once more.

“I think so,” she said. “And I like it.”

“Good.”

“But Percy…”

He made a small, inquisitive sound. She lifted her gaze to his again and teasingly asked, “Did _you_ make all that up just to humor me?”

It was quiet for a moment, out there in the chill. At last Percy smiled in a very Percy sort of way and admitted, “Well, I don’t have my books with me to prove it. So who’s to say?”

Vex poked him, making Percy jump, but soon enough he joined her in laughter. She also didn’t stop him when his arm came around to hold her. “Someday we’ll have to have our own marksmanship contest,” he said, while Vex contentedly nestled in against his side.

“You know I’ll win.”

“Oh, I’m betting on it.”

Vex smiled as she felt him kiss her brow. And in that moment, all the stars seemed to shine just a little bit brighter, all throughout the winter sky.


End file.
